The Outcome of 11:11
by a-wintergirls-deathnote
Summary: This is kind of my version of wintergirls. That's really al I have to say...
1. Chapter 1

"He offered her the world. She said she had her own." Monique Duval

I tugged on the ends of my jacket as the cool, autumn winds blew my thoughts down the shadowy street. The street they illuminated with forever flickering lights. Last years' rumors hung low in the air. I could recall every word they shot me with.

Freak. Fat. Stupid. Ugly. Worthless. Pathetic.

No one else seemed to notice them, since they were busy starting new ones.

Was I ready for more of this torture?

Even if I wasn't, no one would care. I am that little crack in your window. A nuisance that you can either deal with your whole life, or replace in an instant, without giving it a second though.

See that sweet, innocent girl over there? Don't underestimate her. She knows how to make you regret every word you've ever spoken. She'll destroy you. She hates your guts.

I give the glamour girls one of my broken smiles. She chews right through it and spits it back in my face.

I don't know where I am, yet I know exactly where I'm at. I don't make much since, but you already guessed that. Am I right?

I am Brielle. A thirteen-year-old who dreams big.

You would think that I am a normal "typical" girl. I have "friends", get "average" grades, and plan on going to college someday.

But I'm not. I have secrets. I am practically a slave who gets walked all over everyday and is expected to deal with it my whole life. Another thing people don't know about me is that i'm an introvert who gets bullied, but in this life, I have no voice. If I tried to speak my mind, no one would be able to decipher the whispers. In this world, I'm just a faint sigh in a sea full of sirens.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. I have to do it anyway so we began our death march into Hell.

I probably have the stupidest homeroom in the world. Of course, everyone I knew last year has homeroom on the third floor.

I turn down one hall, then another in this endless labyrinth. I guess they made Technology class my homeroom this year.

No. I was wrong. I'm standing in front of art class.

The teacher is a bit taller than me with curly blonde hair falling just below her shoulders.

She looks young.

Great, they put me in the wrong class. The one with a barbie doll as a teacher. She's skinny too. I can see her thigh gap from here. I want one. I couldn't pay attention the entire class. All I'm staring at is her body. A body made of bones. not fat. She is the skeleton I long to be.

I have a schedule in my slightly trembling hands and the bell's ringing in my ears. I am motionless. Someone drags me out and into reality. If only they would of lt me dream for a little while longer.

"Uh...hi."

"Hey,"

Everything's wrong. Why is this person talking to me? No one talks to the broken girl. Don't get too close. I bet she's contagious.

Is there something this guy wants because this is awkward. He isn't talking.

"Um, well goodbye," I start to walk away.

He cuts the silent treatment.

"Wait no!Don't go!"

More silence.

"I...um, hi. My name's Jett."

I never thought a few silently spoken words could change so much. Let me tell you now. I fall for him. I fall deeply in love with a boy named Jett Weller.


	2. Chapter 2

"Guns don't kill people, people kill people." Wayne LaPierre

I am happy. I have a friend. We are laughing. I'm all smiles...on the outside.

I think I just blushed. What if he thinks I like him and doesn't want to be my friend? What if this is just a sympathy thing? A bet?

What if he finds out I'm UglyStupidWorthlesAwasteofti meandspaceNothing?

WhatifWhatifWhatif?

I swallow hard and bite my lip to forget the bad thoughts. But I think I'm starting to get a crush on another guy...

God, not this again. Not now.

Then I spot Elissa and her little group of fakers. They make me sick. I remember when I tried to be like them. Ha. What a fool I was. I didn't fit in. I wasn't skinny/pretty/talkative/FAKE like they are. I may use a facade sometimes, but I don't use it to make boyfriends.

Of course they got Jett's attention. I think I'm going to puke.

She walks towards us. THEY start to walk towards us.

And there she goes, flirting with every guy in sight. I am sitting here. At least I think I am. I am invisible. Since I don't exist I can listen to the groups little side conversation.

Haley:Why is she talking to HIM?

Olivia: Yeah, I thought she was going out with Andrew.

Katy:She is.

Katy blows away the comment along with a wink to Andrew. The other glitter girls stare at her with their mouths hanging slightly open. I can see their gum they love to blow bubbles with "oh so loudly" in class. Elissa (finally) notices me.

"So whats...eh..this ?" pointing to me. I can hear the glitter girls high pitched giggles.

"Aren't starved little mutts like you supposed to be skinny...fat ass. Lose a couple of pounds, then maybe someone would finally notice you. She raises her voice so that EVERYONE can hear her.

The crowd with gaping holes for mouth cheer her on like angry fans during a football game. Jett looks embarrassed. He was seen with me. He was seen with the freak.

I should of just ignored him in art class. This travesty has enough to deal with.

None of the teachers see us. All eyes on me. Then she did it.

Elissa punched me so hard all I could see were little black dots swaying around in a waltz. Jett grabbed my arm and led/dragged me out into the hall. He stares me down like I'm crazy. I probably am. A psychotic nut-job. That would explain a lot.

The Argument:

Jett: WHY DID'NT YOU FIGHT BACK

Me:...

Jett" Look at me, Brielle. What's wrong?

Everything. Nothing. If only I knew.

Me: It's not like you'd care.

Jett: That's not true and you know it

Me: I barely know anything about you

Jett: But I want to change that about us

Me: You don't care. Don't act like you ever did or ever will.


End file.
